我们这群可怜人。这群来自各自母体、来自游动红尘的普通个体、来自浮华尘土的人啊,为什么一定要千山万水、关山飞度来看星星。那些很小的“盒子”。石头、沙土、木,组合成的“盒子”。在二氧化碳和氧气不成比例的“盒子”里,那些挤挤挨挨的桌凳间,我看到了他们漆黑的眸子里,闪烁着惊我心灵的光。那一定不是潘多拉星球漂浮的希望树的种子。不是奇异花草。 We poor people. This group from their respective mothers, from the moving red ordinary individuals, from the glitz of people ah, why must thousands of miles, Guan Shan Fit to see the stars. Those small “box ”. Stone, sand, wood, made up of “box ”. In the disproportionate “box” of carbon dioxide and oxygen, the crowded tables and benches I saw in their dark eyes sparkled the light of my heart. That must not be the seed of hope tree floating on the planet Pandora. Not a bizarre flower.